


Letters to Viktor

by diamondsbrokenglass



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, M/M, Suicide, i remember there being discourse on viktor's name, i spell it with a k kill me about it, sorry everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondsbrokenglass/pseuds/diamondsbrokenglass
Summary: Yuuri thinks it’s just him being weird but the relationship is actually a poison that doesn’t kill. Yuuri thinks he can learn to love Viktor in a way that doesn’t hurt him, but he can’t.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov, Viktor Nikiforov/OC
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Letters to Viktor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mamaweallgotohell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamaweallgotohell/gifts).



> @mamaweallgotohell made me write this all the way back in may 2018, then she lowkey asked me to edit it in august of last year, but i didn't like it at all back then so i chickened out, but now i finally uploaded it! congrats me, took me long enough.  
> also, this is sad, sorry about that. there are mentions of suicide, and deteriorating mental health in both characters. Yuuri's parents and some other skaters are mentioned, but it's blink and miss. also, i haven't written or read anything in this fandom for two years so i don't know if it's dead or not, in any case, enjoy!

The funeral was in Japan, that was also where Yuuri was going to be buried. Viktor couldn’t say no to Yuuri’s parents, he knew it was for the best for the grave to be in Yuuri’s hometown. 

The press had already created a mass group when Viktor arrived at the ceremony, everyone talking about how unfortunate it was that a skater so talented had committed suicide, and how weird it was that his husband, Viktor, hadn’t noticed it coming. Viktor avoided everyone. He didn’t stay near Yuuri’s grave for long either. He couldn’t muster doing anything other than booking the first flight to Moscow and crying nonstop. 

He spent the first few days in bed, not eating or sleeping, just waiting miserably for something to happen, anything. For the sheets to stop smelling like Yuuri, for his own days to end. He tried to get some water from the kitchen but he saw Yuuri’s shirt on the floor and his mug in the sink and he decided he wasn’t ready for walking yet.

He finally got around to opening the windows and start cleaning one night when he had to stop himself from calling out to Yuuri one too many times. When he was looking through Yuuri’s clothes, he came across an envelope. He hadn’t seen it before so he opened it to find five letters. He turned the envelope around, it read, in Yuuri’s handwriting, _Letters to Viktor._ He unfolded the first letter, started reading.

_My dearest, Viktor,_

_Remember that summer evening in Italy where we were so drunk that we tried to skate our routine on the deserted streets? I do, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about lately. We were so young and so in love. That evening, near the lake when you kissed me so gently I swore I could feel stars behind my eyes, that evening you could give me a glass of poison and I would drink it. And the worst would be this: My love was my decay. If I die, I want it to be because of you, death from you only carries the hope of eternal life. My Viktor, I cannot tell you how much light and joy you brought me, yet I still ask for more. I can never get away, no matter how hard I try. I cannot get used to the idea of a life without you, I can hardly imagine myself being someone who isn’t truly yours. That’s why I said yes tonight, when you proposed._

Viktor didn’t have the energy to do more than to sit there, Yuuri in his hand, Yuuri in his mind, remembering all of their fond memories and crying, until the sun rose on him.

***  


It was Viktor’s first skating event without Yuuri. He tried to focus on the chatter, on the themes discussed, anything but his aching chest and the obvious absence of Yuuri holding his hand. This was one of the moments when Viktor realized all over again that Yuuri was never coming back. He made it through the event, declaring his theme, loss, and went straight home. He made a habit of not staying in places for long after Yuuri had passed, he couldn’t stay away from home for much. 

Viktor came home to find nobody to welcome him, he was getting used to the feeling. He found himself wanting to talk to Yuuri, not to hold him or to love him, but to just talk to him. He wanted to tell him about his new free skate, and how obnoxious Chris’s music choice was, and how amazing it was that Otabek and Yuri came out and were now moving to pair skating. So he did the only thing he could think of doing and started reading another letter.

_My dear beloved,_

_Sometimes I wonder if I steal you away much. I can never stop seeing you as a treasure to be hoarded rather than a fortune to be exhibited. I love you and I want the sweet poison of your love only to me, only to me. After your free skate last year, remember when a guy came up to speak to you? I bet you don’t remember, it was nothing of importance to you. That guy started plainly flirting with you and you were oblivious. He was glancing at you in a way that got me to my feet and replace the glance with one of my own. His look was wrong, poisonous, I didn’t want it reaching your eyes. Yesterday a man looked at you just like that guy had. I didn’t stop him. It was a lack of act of my love, converted from the thing it was to a beautiful nightmare. That’s when I knew that you weren’t mine to protect anymore. That you weren’t mine._

Viktor didn’t flinch before putting the letter neatly in the envelope again and silently decide to focus on skating and to not read another letter in a while.

***

Viktor made plans before the competition. He got the third letter and flew to Japan for a couple of hours, he didn’t tell Yuuri’s parents, this was just for him and Yuuri. When he arrived, he got some of Yuuri’s favorite flowers and a cup of Japanese green tea, again, Yuuri’s favorite. 

He walked to the grave with ease, enjoying the weather as the cup of the slowly cooled in his hand. He sat down next to the grave, gently placing the flowers on top of the dirt and putting the now lukewarm cup of the next to them. 

He didn’t wait for anything else, got the neatly folded letter out of his pocket and started reading it.

_Viktor, darling,_

_I know you are not good with deaths, I know they trouble you and you hate funerals and grieving. I know you cannot bear to see people die. When Makkachin died, it poisoned you, I could see. It poisoned me too. But death is a part of life darling, death is the route to living a better life. Life without Makka was so hard in the beginning, for the both of us. But we got used to his absence, didn’t we? We learned to live without him even though it meant that we would laugh when he no longer could. I know it is hard to live, to laugh, to merely exist after you have lost someone you love. But we must try, Viktor, shouldn’t we? Life goes on and so should we. Viktor, I know you are only going to read these after I have died. Move on, Viktor, don’t read the other letters. Let them rot in an old drawer or burn them. You don’t deserve to suffer more than you already are, have. I will always be in your heart, where I may not remove, nor be removed. I love you, don’t read the others._

Viktor knew he didn’t have time to feel an emotion as strong as the one he wanted to feel so he got up, kissed Yuuri’s tombstone. He said “Wish me luck” and walked out of the cemetery with the same ease the got into it.

***  


Viktor came sixth. He hadn’t even been the sixth in his life, he worst ranking he got was forth. He felt embarrassed, out of his league, sad, desperate, but he felt like he needed Yuuri the strongest. He didn’t even try to do press, he just got on the first plane home. He didn’t think about his performance or all the ways he fucked it up or how sad he must have looked in the kiss and cry. He had managed to thoroughly fuck up. 

When his flight finally landed in Moscow, he bought as much vodka as he could from the duty-free and went straight home. He texted his friends he’d need some alone time and turned off his phone. 

After he stopped thinking about how disgusting his performance was, which was roughly when he finished his first bottle, he started thinking about Makka and Yuuri, all the things he had loved and then lost. He hoped Yuuri could calm him, help him, do something he couldn’t, so he got the forth letter.

_Viktor,_

_I told you no to read these. You don’t need these in your life. But I need to write, or else I will go mad. I keep thinking about our golden days, when we were our best, when I wished time wouldn’t go on. I think they were our St Petersburg days, Viktor. That year when I won gold and we were so in love. That year when you proposed. When I won gold, it was you, everywhere. I couldn’t breathe without smelling your love, poisonous, intoxicating and addictive. And only if I could write the beauty of your eyes when we were young. I adored it, pushing the doubts and the insecurities and the signs aside, being successful and madly in love. The golden days, Viktor, they were our St Petersburg days. Those days were our climax. Those were the days the poison should have kicked in._

It was the first time he didn’t cry while reading one of Yuuri’s letters. When he could move, he opened his closet, dug around for a bit, got one of Makka’s toys he had kept, one of Yuuri’s shirts. He made his way to the living room, stalling slightly when he passed a picture of him and Yuuri on the hallway.He got his first gold medal from the stand, standing in the right corner of the room. He sank down on the couch, drank his vodka until he passed out with everything he had lost in his hands. 

***

Viktor woke up feeling thoroughly sick. He didn't know if it was the heavy amounts of alcohol or the smell of someone else in their bed. He opened his eyes, no one was there. He looked at the bed sheets to find it stained by streaks of come, sweat, he didn't want to know what else. He got off the bed, quickly wiping away tears that were already starting to form, he wasn't going to let himself feel like this. He moved towards the bed, tearing the sheets apart and throwing the pillows on the floor, he didn't need them anymore, not when they didn't smell of Yuuri, his Yuuri, lovely Yuuri. He broke down when Yuuri's name crossed his mind, sitting next to the bed. He had promised himself he wasn't going to read the last letter, he wanted there to be something he didn't know about Yuuri, something he could discover even if he wasn’t here anymore. He's not here anymore, thought Viktor. Viktor stood up, determined to take a shower and throw out the sheets before he left for whatever he was going to do today. On his way to the bathroom, he passed the mirror Yuuri had bought as a gift, and his eyes got caught on his neck, a visible red mark there. It wasn't entirely a hickey but enough to make Viktor kneel down and puke. The thought of someone else touching him, marking him made Viktor sick to his guts. He raced back to the bedroom, opening the last drawer of his bedside and getting out the last piece of paper left in the envelope. 

_My most poisonous, Viktor,_

_When you first came to train with me I was so excited, scared, inexperienced, young. I felt like the moon rose on me. I loved every second of my life with you so much that I could ignore every single negative thought in a way I hadn’t been able to do, ever. Maybe my absolute denial of things being able to go wrong with you was my downfall. I remember, it was June and we were so happy together and I loved you, and I told you that I did, and you gave me the brightest smile, loved me in return. That night in our apartment, you were sleeping just like you are now, and I went into the kitchen and tried to understand why loving you felt so right but the feeling around us felt wrong, rotten, full of mistakes. I couldn’t, so I blamed my mental health. I wish I hadn’t. I understood the actual reason for the air feeling wrong at our wedding, right after our vows; Loving you was drinking poison that didn’t kill. I had taken a sip, and only then realized the end wouldn’t come. All I had then, even with you on my side and an olympic gold back home, was my undying love and bitterness in my mouth. I felt sick to my bones, Viktor, but I still made love to you that night. That’s when I knew I was going to die because of you, and my love, against this coming end you should prepare. I was going to die, and the blood was going to be at your hands because I was a fool and let you under my skin. I love you._

Viktor clutched the last letter in his hand, looked at the room with sore eyes. Yuuri was right here, in his hand, he was under the cum strains in the sheets, he was in the kitchen as the Japanese tea he loved so much, he was in the living room, an olympic gold. "Poison that doesn't kill" said Viktor, barely above a whisper.


End file.
